Sugar Coated
by Leytivia
Summary: Peter entertains the thought of a frosting covered Olivia. Rated M for smut and stuff.


_A/N: This started as an inside joke but it became... something more. ;D Rated M for smut, enjoy!_

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><p>"So you're telling me you didn't have birthday cake as a kid?" Peter inquired in half dismay, laughing.<p>

"No, I never said that." Olivia laughed, "I just said I didn't like it… why are we even discussing this?"

"I'm just saying." Peter confessed, "Do you not like puppies either?"

Olivia shook her head, these meaningless conversations always entertained her, "Actually I've never been fond of puppies." She stated, "What does that have to do with cake?"

"Nothing, I guess." Peter answered, "I've just never met anyone who doesn't like cake."

"I've never met anyone from another universe." She muttered playfully.

He cocked his head to the side, "You're funny."

"I know." She affirmed, "Now. Do you want me to buy you a cake or something?"

"Please." He scoffed, "I'd have Walter make one."

Olivia pursed her lips, nodding. Why did this make her almost jealous? And _why _the hell were they still on the subject of baked goods? "You phase me as the kid who would take a corner piece and lick off of the frosting off." She stated.

"Oh, I was." He confessed, crossing his arms.

Olivia laughed, the image of a young Peter shoving frosting down his throat with his chubby little hands made her smile, "I rest my case."

"I still am that kid." He confessed, "I keep a tub of that stuff in the fridge."

"That's disgusting." Olivia said.

"Have you seen what Walter has made me eat?" Peter inquired, "That's nothing."

She shrugged, "You are an interesting person." She told him.

Peter raised an eyebrow, "You think so?" He began walking towards her, "You know…"

"Oh here we go." Olivia laughed, knowing what ever he was about to imply was going to be absurd at the least.

He leaned in close to her, his tone now deep and possibly seductive, "We could put that frosting to good use."

Her jaw dropped, it literally dropped. She'd heard some interesting things come out of his mouth before, but this, this was not up her alley. "Peter!" She spat quietly, hitting him on the shoulder. She eyed him for a few seconds while he just sat there, looking all smug. Her brow furrowed, "You're serious." She stated in defeat.

"And what's the problem?" He asked, so simply.

She was still in half shock, "Won't that get like, messy?"

"Probably." He shrugged.

Olivia sighed, "Oh my god."

"Is that a yes?" Peter teased.

"No!" She returned, contemplating, "Maybe… can't we just have normal, frosting-less sex?" That was by far the strangest question she had ever asked him.

"Hmm, no." He answered, "Not tonight at least."

She rolled her eyes, "Is this some sort of fantasy you've never been able fulfill, or something?"

He analyzed the question, "As of about 5 minutes ago, yes."

Peter knew she wasn't caving, to be honest he didn't care that much-if at all, about the frosting. Obviously on the list of kinky things they had done, or at least thought about doing, this was never something she would have put on there. But he couldn't help but be amused by how uncomfortable this made her.

He also knew how to drive her crazy, with a little effort he could get her to the point where'd she do just about anything have him, he knew how she worked.

Oh, he was going to have fun with this.

Peter stepped behind her, starting to massage her shoulders, "Okay." He conceded.

She wasn't exactly sure what was happening, "Okay, what?" She questioned.

"We can have 'normal sex'" He suggested, feeling her tense up underneath him-just as he had hoped, she was speaking without words and he had a reply, "_After_, we do this."

Olivia pulled from his grasp and turned in her chair so she was facing him, "You think you're so clever, Bishop?"

"I don't see you fighting back." Peter enthused.

Olivia stood up from the chair. When she did she grabbed his shirt collar and backed him into the wall behind them, she placed one leg between his and kissed him deeply, slowly grinding up against him, "I don' have to." She huskily replied against his lips.

"Oh?" He challenged, grabbing her hips to turn them so that he had her against the wall. He took one of her wrists in his hand and pinned it above her, her other hand on the back of his neck. Peter kissed her lips again, then began moving downward across her jaw line and then to her collar bone, Olivia moaned as she threw her head back, using her free hand to pull him closure, urging him to continue.

And he did. Slowly he began unbuttoning her shirt, one by one, and with each one he tasted the skin of her body, going lower and lower until he met the leather belt buckle in her work pants. He pushed the blue dress shirt off of her shoulders, leaving her in just her bra-in his kitchen. It was a good thing Walter wouldn't be home until morning.

Peter backed away a few feet, while Olivia was still leaning against the wall. She raised an eyebrow, "You're just gonna stop there?" she questioned.

He had her right where he wanted her.

"I could." he debated, "Unless…"

He would not win this one, "Oh for the love of god, Peter." She started towards, him at a quick pace. Before he could think she had him pushed down onto the table behind him. She climbed on top of him. Straddling his lap she began to undo his shirt as well. Much faster and more aggressively than he had to her, not that he was complaining in the slightest. She moved her way down to his pants, and soon those were discarded as well. Somewhere in the process he unhooked her bra, throwing it to an unknown corner of the room.

The island unit they were on was small, but they made it work. Peter flipped him so he was on top, "You know, Liv-" he started, "We eat on here."

"I know." She insinuated, narrowing her eyes.

He groaned in pleasure, planting more deep kisses on her neck instead of speaking. Olivia inhaled sharply, pulling him closer to him by the shoulders.

They were both half naked, on the kitchen table. The table where Walter did experiments, and cooked and probably had severed body parts laid out on at one point or another. Nothing a little disinfectant couldn't take care of, but it really was too small to accommodate the two of them.

Not that issues like this bothered him in the past.

"Come on," He gestured as he climbed off of the table, grabbing her hand, "We don't want to do this in here."

"So you've given up on the other idea?" She entertained.

They moved hastily up the stairs, "For now," Peter answered, opening his bedroom door and almost shoving her inside.

The next thing Olivia knew she was pushed against the comforter of his bed. He leaned over her and instantly began working at her belt buckle. And soon whatever remaining clothing they had on was removed.

Peter held her waist as he began planting soft kisses on her stomach, moving south until he found what he wanted. He teased her with his mouth and then his hands, making her moan and mutter something incoherently as he felt her tighten around his fingers.

"Peter," She moaned against his mouth. She was begging for more. But again, two could play at this game. She wrapped a leg around his waist, trying to get him as close to her as possible.

He suckled each of her breasts, grazing his teeth against her. God he loved the taste of her.

She loved the feeling of his mouth on her body, every single inch of it. But that was not what she wanted right now.

After much, _much_, more teasing he gave in and entered her, moving in a slow rhythm at first, gradually become faster and faster. Olivia begged him for more, as he went into her deeper. Her nails dug into his shoulders, such a good kind of pain he caused her. They reached a point where not a single thought was coherent, he reached his climax and spilled into her. As she did the same, cursing and yelling his name. God he loved to hear her say his name like that.

After a while they lay there until their breathing patterns returned to normal, Olivia rolled over to face him, "See." She nagged, "Normal sex is better."

Peter sighed, he'd let her win this one. Though he never really understood when it became a game in the first place.

"For now." He implied the same as he head earlier. They both laughed quietly. Peter wrapped an arm around her and she snuggled into his chest. They fell asleep quite briefly afterwards.

They slept until the later hours of the morning, it was quite nice having a day off-for the time being, at least. Neither of them held their breath on it though. Any second now they would most likely be called in about a case. They'd be more surprised if they weren't.

Peter woke up to an unusual silence. He couldn't remember the last time he experienced a morning without Walter being Walter, singing and cooking-usually in minimal clothing, concocting up so 'original' breakfast of his that neither he nor Olivia dare try.

There was of course, the exception of the days he'd wake up after spending the night at Olivia's place. She would be in the kitchen making breakfast for him, sometimes in minimal clothing as well, but this Peter didn't mind in the slightest. She was a much better singer than Walter as well. Though he never made it known that he had heard her. And the fact that her cooking expertise went beyond using the toaster, made it that much better.

Peter much preferred mornings at her place, they were always much quieter and felt more 'homey' in a way. And though she claimed to be indifferent, Olivia was partial to being there as well. She was someone who claimed they never liked being home, but Peter being there made all of the difference.

He figured it was best to make sure Walter hadn't come home at some strange hour of the night and simply fallen asleep, or something worse. He rolled over in his bed, carefully trying not to wake Olivia. Succeeding, he pulled on a pair of sweats and a gray t-shirt, silently walking down the stairs just in case Walter _was _home. He stepped through the kitchen, not finding Walter. But he did find the clothes they'd left there from the night before. He laughed to himself, if his father _had _come home to this, by no means would it be the first time Peter would be embarrassingly questioned about what he and Olivia had done the night before.

But, he really had no desire to endure that today.

Peering around the archway he saw nothing more than an empty sofa sleeper. After checking a few other places he was positive Walter was not yet home. Given the hour he wasn't too worried.

He chucked the pile of clothes he was carrying into the laundry room, and heading back upstairs he still tried his hardest not to make much noise. When he entered his room again Olivia was still laying the same way as when he had left, that whole five minutes ago. He didn't even try to suppress the smile on his face when he saw her.

Sometimes moments like these were just too perfect.

Peter climbed back on to his side of the bed and gingerly wrapped his arms around her middle. After what wasn't even a minute she rolled over in his grasp to face him. Opening her eyes, she smiled when she saw him and became aware of where she was. "Hi," She said to him, her voice still flourished with drowsiness, "How long have you been up?"

Peter smiled, "About five minutes." They both laughed quietly.

Olivia sighed lightly, becoming more aware now, "What time is it?" She inquired.

"About eight-fifteen." He told her, Olivia groaned impassively into his chest. "I'm guessing Walter's not home?" Her statement entirely rhetorical.

He shook his head, "No." Peter laughed, "I just checked."

"Good." Olivia replied, smiling.

"Why?" Peter questioned, smiling back.

Olivia raised an eyebrow, trying to look unamused, "Because Walter is obnoxious in the morning." She said dryly, but she didn't mean it in any degrading way, "So you can stop thinking whatever you were thinking."

"That just means you were thinking it too." Olivia shook her head smugly at him.

Peter shrugged innocently, changing the subject, "You hungry?" He asked, getting up anyway.

Olivia rolled onto her back, "I could eat," she replied simply, getting out of bed as well, walking to his dresser to get one of his shirts. Peter couldn't help but watch, it was almost painful not to. She could just sense his gaze upon his skin as she pulled the shirt over her head. Olivia rolled her eyes at him playfully.

Downstairs, Peter rummaged through the kitchen looking for a baking pan. He was unsuccessful until he checked and found one stored in the oven.

Olivia raised her head, "What's that smell?"

"I don't know." Peter replied, until he looked into the pan that was actually covered in a questionable substance, "And I really don't want to." He said standing up, the interior of the oven was covered with it as well. They both know it was the workings of Walter, without saying anything. "We could go out." Peter suggested.

Olivia hopped off of her chair and approached him, draping her arms around his neck. "We could," she entertained, "but we don't have to." She leaned forward and kissed him deeply, this was moments away from becoming a repeat of the night before.

"Mmm." Peter groaned into lips, "Should I get the frosting?" He was kidding, completely kidding. And expected nothing less than for her to hit him or make a some smart ass comment, or something. But she didn't. Instead Olivia raised an eyebrow in an entirely suggestive manor. A look that only he knew.

He won this time.

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><p>U mad?<p> 


End file.
